Korea JoongAng Daily - Daily News from Korea

This article is by Seo Ji-eun and read by an artificial voice.

President Lee Jae Myung has concluded a high-stakes diplomatic marathon, starting the year with back-to-back summits in China and Japan.

Over the course of a week, Lee met Chinese President Xi Jinping in Beijing and Japanese Prime Minister Sanae Takaichi in Nara, seeking to thaw frosty relations with Beijing and solidify a forward-looking partnership with Tokyo.

While the first year of his administration was characterized by a pivot to the West and the solidification of the alliance with the United States, this New Year diplomacy signals a strategic shift toward regional stabilization and what officials have dubbed a "managed stability."

Experts say that while the packaging of these summits is polished, the underlying strategic road maps remain underdeveloped, and the managed stability may be a reprieve rather than a permanent peace.

China summit: 'Three feet of ice don't melt in a day'

Lee's four-day state visit to China from Jan. 4 to 7 marked the first time in nearly nine years that a South Korean president received a full state welcome in Beijing. It was a symbolic end to the long diplomatic winter that had persisted since the 2016 Thaad deployment.

In talks with Lee, Xi reached for an old proverb: "Three feet of ice doesn't melt at once, and fruit will drop on its own when ripe." This was a clear signal that while Beijing is open to dialogue, it expects Seoul to show patience regarding the accumulated frost in bilateral ties.

Rather than pushing for sweeping concessions on sensitive security issues, Lee focused on concrete, mutually beneficial exchanges.

He even suggested a new installment of "panda diplomacy," requesting a pair of giant pandas for a zoo in Gwangju — a move designed to soften public sentiment in Korea, where anti-China sentiment remains at historic highs.

The Blue House declared the China visit a stepping stone toward "full restoration of relations," but experts remain skeptical of the term in the absence of a clear road map.

"We must seriously consider what 'restoration' actually means," noted Kang Jun-young, a Chinese studies professor at Hankuk University of Foreign Studies.

"China is trying to keep South Korea from fully locking into trilateral cooperation with the United States and Japan," said Kang. "They see South Korea as the weakest link in that chain and will use historical cooperation as a wedge."

Japan summit: BTS drum beats in Nara

If Beijing was about melting ice, the trip to Japan from Tuesday to Wednesday was about turning the page.

Breaking from the traditional Tokyo-centric itinerary, Lee visited Nara, Takaichi's hometown and political base.

The defining image of the summit was the two leaders engaging in an impromptu joint drum session to songs from Netflix's "Kpop Demon Hunters" and BTS, using cultural soft power to cover the jagged edges of historical grievances.

Beyond the drums, the two produced a humanitarian approach to history. They agreed to launch a joint excavation and DNA identification project for Korean forced laborers who were killed when Japan's Chosei coal mine flooded in 1942 — a "low-hurdle historical issue" as it was already a project initiated by Japanese civic group, according to Lee Won-deog, professor of Japanese studies at Kookmin University.

"The Korean government's participation in a project led by Japanese NGOs allowed the Lee administration to demonstrate its 'two-track diplomacy' strategy [separating historical reconciliation from future-oriented cooperation]," he explained.

Korea also formally requested accession to the Japan-led Comprehensive and Progressive Agreement for Trans-Pacific Partnership (CPTPP), marking a significant step toward building an economic community between the two nations.

The institutionalization of "shuttle diplomacy" was another key outcome, confirming plans to regularize back-and-forth leader exchanges despite changes in Japan's leadership.

Walking a tightrope o...

This article is by Sarah Chea and read by an artificial voice.

At a moment when supply chains have become a decisive force shaping the global automotive industry, Jörg Burzer, Mercedes-Benz's newly appointed chief technology officer (CTO), chose Korea as his priority destination.

Burzer arranged a series of meetings with major Korean companies, including Samsung, SK and LG, seeking to cooperate across batteries, displays and semiconductors — technologies increasingly central to the future of mobility.

"Korea is an extremely important market for us not only from a selling cars perspective but also in terms of the supplies and the supply partners for technologies," said Burzer, who assumed his role as CTO on Dec. 1. He also spearheads overall development processes and procurement at the German luxury brand.

"With Samsung, SK, LG, we will discuss, obviously not only batteries, but also on the semiconductor side, and we have a lot of discussions also on the display side," he added. "I'm very much looking forward to intensifying all the cooperation with Korea."

Mercedes-Benz already sources batteries from LG Energy Solution and SK On, though it does not yet have a supply agreement with Samsung SDI. Beyond conventional battery supply, the talks have also opened the door to potential collaboration on solid-state battery technology, widely viewed as the next frontier in electric vehicles.

Burzer's remarks come as Mercedes recently established a new Asia-Pacific Procurement and Supplier Management office in Seoul, underscoring the company's strategic pivot toward the region.

The organization will oversee procurement and supplier quality management across the Asia-Pacific region, with a particular focus on Korea and Japan, while also covering major Southeast Asian markets. It is designed to serve as a strategic bridge linking the company's global procurement headquarters with regional operations.

"I really appreciate not only the Korean society but also the high level of innovation, and our partners in the supply industry can provide," he said. "The Korean market is obviously important for us. In terms of supply relation, this is a little bit unique."

Burzer also addressed Mercedes' expanding partnership with Nvidia, following a surprise announcement at CES 2026 unveiling the autonomous-driving AI system Alpamayo, which he said would be rolled out across "all our lines."

Nvidia CEO Jensen Huang said the first model equipped with the system would be the Mercedes-Benz CLA, calling it "the safest car in the world."

"Nvidia has very powerful chips, and their system is very safe," he said, adding that their cooperation began about six years ago.

"The key is that we are the first who are applying Nvidia autonomous AI and bringing it to the market," he said. "It will take some time for other competitors."

The Nvidia's Alpamayo AI-powered CLA is set to launch on U.S. roads later this year, followed by Europe next year and Asia beginning in 2028.

A Korean launch, however, remains uncertain due to the absence of relevant regulatory frameworks.

The CTO also reaffirmed his strong commitment to electrification, even as many automakers recalibrate their strategies amid a temporary slowdown in electric-vehicle demand.

"I'm convinced that electric mobility is the way to go," Burzer said.

"But we always have the strategy to be flexible as we deliver to more than 100 markets," he added. "We should let customers decide [either on combustion engines and EVs], and we have to provide the best products for the customer's requirements."

This article is by Shin Ha-nee and read by an artificial voice.

Mnet's hip-hop competition program "Show Me The Money" (2012-) is making an ambitious comeback after a three-year hiatus, aiming to reignite the genre's influence in Korea.

With a star-studded producer lineup and an expanded global applicant pool, the twelfth season of the long-running franchise seeks to recreate the momentum of its earlier years, which helped catapult the careers of some of the nation's biggest rappers.

"If you're a Korean, you cannot deny the significance of 'Show Me The Money' as a catalyst for the mainstream expansion of Korean hip-hop," said singer Crush during a press conference on Thursday in southern Seoul. "We joined the program as people who love Korean hip-hop and its culture, hoping to contribute to the genre."

"Show Me the Money," first aired in June 2012, played a central role in the surge of hip-hop's popularity from the mid to late 2010s. The franchise has since launched the careers of prominent rappers such as Loco, who won the first season and returns as a producer for this season.

Largely following the show's previous format, this season features four musician teams serving as judges, mentors, and producers: Zico and Crush; Jay Park and Lil Moshpit, also known as GroovyRoom; Gray and Loco; and J-Tong and Hukky Shibaseki.

As the twelfth season arrives after a long hiatus following the previous installment's 2022 airing, the show saw a record-breaking 36,000 applicants from Korea and abroad, and rappers from 32 regions will perform in 24 different languages.

"We scaled up the preliminary rounds not only domestically but also globally, so I believe this will be a new opportunity to introduce artists with diverse languages and identities," said the program's chief producer Choi Hyo-jin.

Choi noted that there were initial concerns about evaluating performances in multiple languages, especially given the nature of hip-hop lyricism, but stressed that musicality transcended cultural barriers.

"Regardless of language differences, there were many compelling qualities in attitude, charisma and expression that stood out," she said.

Another highlight of the upcoming season is its expanded narrative format, including a spinoff series titled "Show Me The Money: The World of Yaksha."

Billed as a "hidden league," the spinoff features a more ruthless competition and will stream exclusively on streaming platform Tving.

As the franchise returns amid a waning mainstream interest in hip-hop since the early 2020s, the producers say they hope to restore the genre's cultural prominence for both existing fans and the public.

Acknowledging that hip-hop has recently lost touch with a broader audience, rapper Park noted that "as K-pop music has become more elaborate, the distinction between genres has blurred, and prejudice about the superficial elements of hip-hop culture might have contributed to the decline in relevance."

But Park emphasized that the goal is not to manufacture an inauthentic image for mass appeal.

"Personally, my goal is to show our mindset and authentic attitude as it is so that the viewers will think, 'This is the real hip-hop,'" he said.

The 12th season will premiere at 9:20 p.m. on Thursday, simultaneously on Mnet and Tving.

This article is by Kim Ji-hye and read by an artificial voice.

Retail investors in Korea rushed to buy dollars at the end of last year, taking advantage of a sharp drop in the won's value following government intervention in the currency market.

Despite repeated warnings from financial authorities, many investors expected the won-dollar exchange rate to continue rising and treated the dip as a buying opportunity.

From Dec. 24, 2025, to Tuesday, individual customers at Korea's five major banks — KB Kookmin, Shinhan, Hana, Woori and NH Nonghyup — exchanged a total of $480.81 million in cash from won to dollars, according to financial sources on Thursday. The daily average for that period came to $22.9 million, more than double the $10.43 million daily average between January and November last year.

On Dec. 24 last year, financial authorities launched a verbal warning to lower the year-end closing exchange rate, which has a significant impact on the financial soundness of companies and financial institutions.

That day, the won gained 33.8 against the dollar, and the exchange rate continued to drop for three consecutive sessions through Dec. 29, 2025, falling from the 1,480-won range to the 1,420-won range.

Retail investors appeared to treat the drop as a window for bargain buying. On Dec. 24, 2025, alone, individuals at the five banks exchanged $63.04 million — close to a week's worth of average trading volume. Some commercial bank branches even posted notices that $100 bills were temporarily unavailable.

Demand for dollars has remained strong in January, even as the exchange rate nears 1,480 won again. Individuals exchanged $17.44 million on Tuesday, about 70 percent higher than the January to November daily average from last year.

Market analysts say strong demand for dollars reflects expectations of further depreciation of the won, despite authorities' efforts to stabilize the market. The won weakened every trading day for the first 10 sessions of this year through Wednesday, climbing to the upper 1,470-won range.

Analysts also expect the elevated exchange rate to persist.

"We expect the won-dollar exchange rate to average around 1,450 this year," said Park Hyung-jung, an economist at Woori Bank. "If external conditions turn more unfavorable for the won, the rate could rise above 1,480."

This article was originally written in Korean and translated by a bilingual reporter with the help of generative AI tools. It was then edited by a native English-speaking editor. All AI-assisted translations are reviewed and refined by our newsroom.

This article is by Sarah Chea and read by an artificial voice.

[INTERVIEW]

LAS VEGAS — Kai Beckmann, newly-appointed Merck Group chair who currently serves as CEO of the Electronics Business of Merck, dismisses the skepticism surrounding a supposed AI bubble as overstated, insisting that it is a technology that is unequivocally here to "stay."

He also brushed off concerns that supply constraints for some types of dynamic random access memory (DRAM) for automobiles would develop into a serious shortage.

"I've seen different kinds of bubbles — there was the famous dot-com bubble 25 years ago. The bubble was not the usage of technology, it was the expectation and the value of the company that has changed," Beckmann said during an interview with the Korea JoongAng Daily on Jan. 7 at CES 2026 in Las Vegas.

"Some companies went out of business, some other companies were kind of reevaluated, but the proliferation of technology did not change," he added.

The comment came as Merck's major clients like Samsung Electronics and TSMC stand to gain from the sharp increase in semiconductor orders tied to AI infrastructure growth.

Pointing to physical AI, the dominant theme permeating CES 2026, he said that the explosive momentum in robotics and autonomous driving — now among the world's most closely watched industries — stands as compelling evidence.

"The benefit of using the technology is more prevalent than ever before. Robotics is a good example — all kinds of autonomous technologies cars use AI, so the bubble discussion is a bit exaggerated," Beckmann said.

"There may be some exuberance, and this may lead to a bubble effect, but the technology is going to stay."

Beckmann also expressed little concern over the tightening supply conditions in the memory chip market, arguing that the current shortage is far from alarming.

On the contrary, he suggested, it represents a favorable development for Merck, positioning the company to benefit from sustained structural demand rather than transient market distortions.

"In memory, the need for high bandwidth memory [HBM] is new with AI. So many have then contributed to HBM and a lot of DRAM as well, which of course in the end creates a shortage," he said. "There is a different demand in DRAM versus NAND. NAND is the most advanced, [and its] many layers of course require more materials, but there's such additional demand in logic, so this is left pocket right pocket."

"We have recorded seven quarters in a row of double digits, so this is nothing where I'm concerned."

Merck's electronics business is a key supplier to both Samsung Electronics and SK hynix for providing critical materials like photoresists, deposition precursors, CMP slurries, and specialty gases for DRAM, NAND and HBM production.

Samsung and SK are two key suppliers to Nvidia that manufacture HBM memory.

Beckmann also took note of the strength and cohesion of Korea's industrial ecosystem, emphasizing how critical the country is to Merck's global supply chain.

"Korea has many hyperscale companies from consumer electronics, technology and materials in the ecosystem," Beckmann said. "We have invested a lot of money into Korea to be very close to our customers, and that gives us an advantage [where] we can benefit from a local footprint as well as being a global company."

Merck in 2021 announced it would invest 600 million euros ($700 million) into Korea to expand its production capacity and bolster research and development capabilities in the chip material industry.

This article is by Kim Ji-ye and read by an artificial voice.

Korea mourned the loss of two venerated actors this winter — Lee Soon-jae and Ahn Sung-ki. The sense of grief was particularly heavy as both were towering figures often referred to as gukmin actors.

"Gukmin actor," which translates to "nation's actor," is an informal title given to figures much-loved by all generations. The title gukmin can actually be given to not only actors but any public figures that are widely beloved and respected. In Korea, the label was given to Olympic gold medalist figure skater Kim Yu-na who was called "gukmin little sister." Singer-actor Suzy earned the moniker "gukmin first love" for her impactful role in the 2012 film "Architecture 101." Singer-actor Lee Seung-gi was labeled "gukmin little brother" because of his debut song "Because You're My Woman" (2004), in which he confesses his love toward an older woman. Others include actors Kim Young-ok and Na Moon-hee as "gukmin grandmothers," and Park Bo-gum as "gukmin boyfriend."

In a global context, Hollywood actor Tom Hanks can be seen as a somewhat comparable figure, being an actor who is highly respected and broadly likable. In the past, stars such as Brooke Shields and even Sophie Marceau were long-associated with the image of being a "first love" icon.

But the once widely used title of gukmin has gradually faded in Korea in recent years. In fact, there isn't a representative figure that instantly comes to people's minds if asked to name a gukmin actor from the current generation.

"More than just a simple matter of labeling, it reflects how difficult it has become to identify figures that most people broadly like," said Prof. Na Eun-yeong at Sogang University's communications department.

The fade of gukmin

The media landscape has significantly changed, shifting away from so-called legacy media such as television, cinema, newspapers and magazines toward streaming platforms like Netflix and social media such as YouTube, Instagram and TikTok.

As audiences now consume content across a far wider range of platforms, the influence of mass media has weakened, making it increasingly difficult for stars to achieve nationwide recognition.

"Titles like 'nation's actor' are a product of the mass media era," said pop culture critic Kim Hern-sik. "They emerged when television, film, radio, newspapers and magazines held enormous influence, and people who frequently appeared across those platforms naturally became figures known to the entire nation."

Kim added, "Today, however, media consumption varies widely by generation and gender, with audiences scattered across countless channels. In that sense, it's natural that the use of such titles has declined."

As media consumption patterns become increasingly split, the ways in which attention and recognition are formed have also grown more diffuse. Lee Sung-min, a professor at Korea National Open University, noted that the use of gukmin titles is closely tied to and carries the notion of "broad public appeal and a degree of publicness."

"Today, the way people pay attention to specific content or media is far more fragmented than in the past, leading to the fading of broad-based popularity," Prof. Lee said. "The reasons of attention have also diversified, meaning that there are no longer figures that garner attention that everyone agrees to regard as a shared public icon."

Regarding ways of approaching content, in the past, when viewing options were limited, audiences had little choice but to sit in front of their televisions, and high ratings naturally became a key measure of popularity. Today, however, the landscape has shifted dramatically with the rise of multiple viewing platforms.

For example, tvN's series "Lovely Runner" (2024) generated significant buzz both domestically and overseas. Despite the attention, the show concluded with a 5.8 percent viewership rating, according to Nielsen Korea — a figure that would have been considered low by past s...

The author is a former president of the Korea Institute of Science and Technology Information.

Walking is the slowest way to move, yet it is the way we encounter the most. As we walk, we take in scenery, register sounds and scents and quietly organize the flow of our thoughts. Science, too, gives walking a meaningful place. A steady walking rhythm activates the brain's default mode network, a system associated with reflection and early-stage idea formation. When this network is engaged, the brain draws on past experience and accumulated knowledge to generate tentative ideas that can grow into free association and creative insight.

Neuroscience research shows that the hippocampus becomes more active during walking, supporting memory formation and spatial awareness. The cues that emerge along a walking route help reconnect thoughts that had been scattered. For this reason, many scientists have said that better questions come to them on foot rather than at a desk.

Charles Darwin famously built a gravel path near his home and called it his "thinking path," walking it daily. In his notes, he wrote that he always turned to this path when sorting through complex ideas. Albert Einstein also believed walking was essential to clarity and creativity. While working at Princeton, he made a habit of walking about 2.4 kilometers to and from work each day.

The value of walking is not limited to historical figures. One of the recipients of the 2025 Nobel Prize in Chemistry, Susumu Kitagawa of Japan, has pointed to walking as an important source of his scientific productivity, describing his morning walks as mental preparation rather than simple exercise. Academic research supports this view. A 2014 study by the Department of Education Psychology at Stanford University found that walking can increase creative output by as much as 60 percent.

A walk does not need a clearly defined destination. What matters is not arriving quickly but moving slowly enough to notice unexpected scenes along the way. Science works in a similar fashion. New discoveries are less likely to come from a race for rapid results than from an attitude that carries questions forward while attentively observing what lies around us.

This column aims to walk alongside science in that spirit. By moving at the same pace as its readers, it seeks to translate scientific thinking into the language of everyday life, so that science can become a tool for understanding the world more precisely and with greater warmth.

This article was originally written in Korean and translated by a bilingual reporter with the help of generative AI tools. It was then edited by a native English-speaking editor. All AI-assisted translations are reviewed and refined by our newsroom.

The author is an editorial writer and the director of the Unification and Culture Research Institute of the JoongAng Ilbo.

The National Intelligence Service (NIS) is an organization wrapped in secrecy. Its headquarters does not appear on navigation apps and its location is blurred on online maps. Classified as a top-tier national security facility, the agency exists much like a ghost, with secrecy as its lifeline. Although it operates with a substantial public budget, the National Assembly reviews that budget behind closed doors, and even the total amount remains classified.

Much about the agency's people is also concealed. Aside from a handful of senior officials whose appointments are publicly announced, the identities of NIS officers are not disclosed. Even when outside visitors tour the premises and take commemorative photographs, officers deliberately step aside. Once an officer's face becomes known, future missions can be compromised. It is considered basic discipline not to inquire about the work of the colleague at the next desk. Some officers are said not to reveal their profession even to family members. After living their careers in the shadows, retired officers named their alumni association "Yangjihoe," meaning a society of sunlight, reflecting a wish to finally live in the open.

The NIS's primary mission is the collection of overseas and North Korea–related intelligence, along with counterintelligence covering industrial and economic security. It also gathers and analyzes information on terrorism and transnational crime. The agency functions both as a spear that collects intelligence and as a shield that prevents sensitive information from leaking abroad. As governments worldwide tighten their defenses against espionage, the risks faced by intelligence collectors have only grown.

Those risks are particularly acute in operations involving North Korea. In October 1996, Choi Duk-geun, a Korean consul and intelligence officer, was killed in Vladivostok while tracking North Korea's counterfeit currency and drug trafficking networks. The NIS commemorates officers who die in the line of duty as "nameless stars," engraving stars within its compound. The practice mirrors the Memorial Wall at the headquarters of the Central Intelligence Agency in Langley, Virginia. In July 2018, then president Moon Jae-in unveiled a monument bearing 18 such stars, marking officers who had died since the founding of the agency's predecessor in 1961. By 2021, the number had increased by one and additional deaths have followed at intervals of one or two years.

Under the Lee Jae Myung administration, the NIS, led by director Lee Jong-seok, a longtime North Korea specialist, has placed renewed emphasis on strengthening intelligence capabilities related to Pyongyang. This includes expanding technical intelligence, or Techint, using satellites and surveillance systems, as well as human intelligence, or Humint, built through human networks. Some within the intelligence community have expressed concern that the agency may be placing too much weight on North Korea–focused collection, reflecting the director's priorities. According to accounts, discussions of North Korea dominate meetings chaired by the director.

Officers assigned to the North Korea division are often told they must internalize Kim Jong-un and follow him like a shadow. One example cited as demonstrating recent NIS capabilities was the acquisition of information that Kim would attend China's Victory Day military parade last September. Until Kim boarded his train to China, the situation remained fluid. Nevertheless, the NIS assessed the intelligence as credible through a combination of Humint and Techint, shared it with the United States and briefed the National Assembly's Intelligence Committee.

The agency also tracked shifts within North Korea's leadership last October, when U.S. President Donald Trump proposed a North Korea–U. S. summit during a visit to Korea. The NIS detected...

The author is the economy and business news editor of the JoongAng Ilbo.

Anger comes first, but there is also a lesson to be learned. Watching how Coupang has responded unilaterally to a series of controversies offers a revealing contrast with the regulatory burden long shouldered by what are often called "real" Korean companies.

Consider first the fair trade system known as the "same person designation." Introduced in 1986, it is a regulation unique to Korea. Once a business group with assets exceeding 5 trillion won ($3.39 billion) is designated as a large conglomerate, the controlling individual must disclose in detail the shareholdings and transactions of relatives and affiliates. Even minor omissions or errors can invite criminal penalties. As deadlines approach, companies drown in paperwork covering stock ownership and family ties. Coupang, however, has been an exception. Although its founder and chairman Bom Kim is the de facto controlling shareholder, he has avoided designation because of his U.S. citizenship and concerns over trade friction. As a result, he has also sidestepped restrictions aimed at curbing private benefit extraction by controlling families and related parties.

Ironically, regulation itself helped build Coupang. The Distribution Industry Development Act enacted in 2012 required large discount stores to close twice a month on designated holidays and barred them from online delivery between midnight and 10 a.m. Framed as a way to protect small neighborhood merchants, the rules instead pushed consumers to their smartphones. While Emart and Lotte Mart were constrained, Coupang seized the moment with its "Rocket Delivery" service and built a dominant logistics network. Its confident posture following a major personal data breach reflected a company that believed it had already captured the market.

Coupang's governance structure would also be impossible under Korean law. Through Class B shares carrying 29 times the voting power of ordinary shares, Kim exercises more than 73 percent control with only about a 9 percent equity stake. This dual-class share system, prohibited under Korea's Commercial Act, allowed Coupang to avoid threats to management control while attracting massive foreign investment. Domestic venture firms have long urged adoption of such structures to reduce hostile takeover risks, but political opposition, citing fears of abuse for hereditary succession, has repeatedly blocked reform.

What most provokes public resentment is what appears to be a selective approach: enjoying authority without bearing responsibility. In late 2020, as worker deaths mounted at Coupang facilities, Kim relinquished his official title at the Korean unit ahead of the National Assembly's passage of the Serious Accidents Punishment Act in January 2021. More recently, Coupang executives sold large blocks of shares around the time of the latest controversy. Had Coupang been a locally listed firm, financial regulators and law enforcement would almost certainly have scrutinized trading records and communications.

There is more. When major scandals erupt, leaders of domestic conglomerates often appear before the National Assembly, absorbing public criticism in the name of social responsibility. For Kim, however, managing a U.S. corporation has effectively served as a shield against such summons. This pattern risks becoming a troubling template for global technology firms already at odds with Korean authorities over taxes, fees and personal data collection.

Korea's government and political class now face a crossroads. One option is to tighten enforcement so that companies that are foreign in name only cannot exploit regulatory gaps. In effect, this would send a clear message that Coupang's U.S.-style defenses do not work in Korea.

If Coupang emerges from this episode merely tougher and unchanged, however, the consequences could be serious. Other firms, backed by elite law firms, may respond to public outrage with leg...

At a sentencing hearing on an insurrection case held on Jan. 13 at the Seoul Central District Court, prosecutors sought the death penalty for former president Yoon Suk Yeol, the maximum punishment under Korean law. The case was heard by the court's Criminal Division 25, presided over by Ji Gui-yeon. The charge of leading an insurrection carries only three possible sentences: death, life imprisonment or life imprisonment without parole. That a president elected by popular vote now faces a demand for capital punishment for allegedly dismantling the constitutional order is a grave moment for Korea's democracy.

Although Korea has not carried out an execution for decades, the special prosecutors' decision to seek the death penalty carries weight. The team led by Cho Eun-seok said the Dec. 3, 2024, declaration of emergency martial law constituted a serious breach of the Constitution and that the defendant had directed the plot from planning through execution. Prosecutors argued that the case required the harshest possible punishment, citing the country's past reckoning with military leaders Chun Doo Hwan and Roh Tae-woo and warning against a repeat of that tragic history. They added that there were no mitigating factors warranting leniency.

Yoon's legal team rejected the accusation, arguing that there was no intent to subvert the constitutional order and that the declaration of martial law was a legitimate act beyond judicial review. Under the Criminal Act, insurrection requires an uprising aimed at excluding state authority or disrupting the constitutional order in all or part of the nation's territory. Whether the Dec. 3, 2024, martial law meets that definition is for the court to decide. Even so, the responsibility cannot be taken lightly when an elected president mobilizes the military beyond the limits of constitutional checks and balances.

Particularly troubling was the deployment of troops to the National Election Commission under the pretext of investigating alleged election fraud. That act was unconstitutional, a point already made clear by the Constitutional Court of Korea in its impeachment ruling. Denials by Yoon's camp and claims that the move was an "enlightenment decree" amount to sophistry.

Yoon's conduct during the trial has also drawn criticism. He appeared selectively in court and sought to shift responsibility onto military commanders who carried out his orders. While he expressed regret to senior officers when testifying at a military court last December, he never apologized for declaring martial law itself, insisting instead that it was a warning to a legislature he said had paralyzed governance.

The Dec. 3, 2024, martial law was anachronistic and imposed high social costs, deepening divisions and undermining international confidence in Korea's democracy. Whether the court ultimately imposes the death penalty is a judicial decision. Still, the prosecution's demand should serve as a reminder that no elected authority should again wield military power to shake the foundations of democratic order. Former president Yoon, for his part, should stop evading responsibility and offer a sincere apology and reflection as a final duty to the public.

This article was originally written in Korean and translated by a bilingual reporter with the help of generative AI tools. It was then edited by a native English-speaking editor. All AI-assisted translations are reviewed and refined by our newsroom.